


Apocamix

by queenklu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fanfiction, Music, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenklu/pseuds/queenklu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every gas station and coffee saturated diner he passed Dean had to white-knuckle the steering wheel to fight the tug of the Impala leading them to a place where Sam could find them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apocamix

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so...this was not anything i was supposed to be working on. Hmm.
> 
> I've had this playlist for a while, and i fully expected to slap it together and run at some point. Then this happened. It's sort of a fic. *hands*
> 
> This could be Sam/Dean preslash if you squint (which i do. they make special contacts for this now) or, if wincest aint your thing, could be gen. Soulmates is canon now, you know.

  
 

  
 

.

[~Zip File Megaupload~](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=AL5SZ09W)  
[~Zip File Sendspace~](http://www.sendspace.com/file/c0hsyu)

Apocalypse Lullaby ~ Wailing Jennies  
Follow heart, follow home  
Here we are, light unshown  
One round heart, one round home

Dean keeps dreaming of holding Sam. Not the now Sam, giant sasquatch-y Sam—Sammy. He dreams of holding Sammy, a quiet heavy bundle in his arms, tiny little fist locked in Dean’s shirt while he hiccupped and stopped crying, even with the smoke still thick on Dean’s tongue and his Dad screaming Mom’s name as the nursery went up in flames. Sam was quiet. The instant he was in Dean’s arms, he was quiet.

 

Dean thought of that one moment when Sam was detoxing, until his skull was raw with thinking it. His hands curled and opened uselessly where they were resting on his thighs, body telling his brain that if they just went in that room, if they just held Sam, he’d be quiet and safe and little again.

  
 

Mad World ~ Adam Lambert  
And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad  
The dreams in which I'm dyin' are the best I've ever had

He got a stomach flu in Dallas, and it was the weirdest fucking thing. That angels and demons and every other run of the mill unnatural or undead couldn’t lay him low, but some fucking germs could have him flat on his back, puking his guts up until he started flashing back to hell and the hundreds of times he’d coughed up bits of his own stomach after Alistair finished playing with it.

 

Which did not help with the puking.

 

He expected Sam to brush it off, leave Dean be, and research up for their latest hunt while Dean recovered. He did not expect Sam to drop everything, check them into a classier-than-their-usual-standards motel and run to the gas station for ginger ale and saltines and fever relievers. He didn’t expect Sam to wash out the trash can every time Dean ralphed into it, didn’t expect Sam to soak his own t-shirts with cold water and fold them over Dean’s stomach, his forehead. He didn’t expect Sam to sit on the bed with him and watch dumb TV, giving a running commentary on every wretched daytime show even when Dean kept falling asleep on him.

 

He didn’t expect Sam to know how badly Dean had needed all of those things every day for thirty years. Or how hard he’d worked to train himself to stop needing them those last ten.

  
 

Jesus Christ ~ Brand New  
Well, Jesus Christ, I’m alone again  
So what did you do those three days you were dead?  
Because this problem's gonna last  
More than the weekend

Dean watched Sam—sue him. The guy got kidnapped more than was humanly possible, and strangled with even greater odds than that.

 

Some people didn’t get that.

 

When Sam died—the big time, the first time, the time when Dean got past the shock of it into the mind numbing terror of _oh god this is real_ —Dean watched Sam until his eyes ached like they’d been pulled right out of his head. He started thinking they might as well have been, because what was he gonna look at now? What was worth seeing in a world without Sam in it?

 

The urgency didn’t fade when Sam came back, not really. Sam was there, alive and breathing, and as long as Dean could keep checking on him then hell didn’t seem so bad. Even after, when Dean caught on how…how indescribably…how hell _was_ —he couldn’t regret how loving Sam ( _loving_ Sam, in all its twisted wretched fucked up glory) had brought him here.

 

He couldn’t.

 

And how god awful was that?

  
 

Catalyst ~ Anna Nalick  
So you're taking these pills for to fill up your soul  
And you're drinking them down with cheap alcohol  
And I'd be inclined to be yours for the taking  
And part of this terrible mess that you're making

Dean was missing a chunk of time in his memory, carefully carved out and discarded along the I-40. Just a couple hours of his life, and not ones he ever needed to see. So it took a good minute to place where they were.

 

“This is the night you left for Stanford.”

  
 

The Storm ~ Lifehouse  
I know you didn't bring me out here to drown  
So why am I ten feet under and upside down?

God didn’t want him. God didn’t want any of them. God took a look at the world and at Dean and said ‘fuck it, I’d rather have another beer.’

 

Sam looked at him and saw too much, a little-brother induced hallucination of greatness. Dean made himself believe that’s what it was, because when he looked at himself there was just absence, failure. A complete lack of anything worthwhile.

  
 

Leaving Avon ~ Vance Gilbert  
It's a good thing that it's sunday  
it's a good thing that it's raining

Every gas station and coffee saturated diner he passed, Dean had to white-knuckle the steering wheelto fight the tug of the Impala leading them to a place where Sam could find them.

 

“Traitor,” he wanted to snarl at her, but the word got stuck in the knot of his throat, in the faint blur of his eyes he only realized belonged to him when the windshield didn’t clear.

 

Sometimes the Impala was a big black dog in his head, sometimes a hot chick. Always a Sam, because Sam was sprawled over every inch of her, pressed into her leather, fingerprints and forehead smudges on her glass. Sam was in her engine on a crisp fall day, and Sam was in her rearview mirror now, collapsing in on himself when he realized he’d never be able to catch up to Dean on foot.

 

Dean had never done so much running in his life. He wondered how Sam could _stand_ it.

  
 

I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You ~ Colin Hay  
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy  
What is closer to the truth  
That if I lived 'til I was a hundred and two  
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

  
 

  
Sam,

            I had to do this—I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me, alright? I don’t want you to. But this is maybe the only way I can get ~~us~~ you out of the apocalypse. Just keep saying no, and stay away from me while Michael’s wearing my meatsuit. The guy’s a little batshit and kinda made it sound like he’s got the hots for his brother Lucifer there. So. Keep an eye on Bobby and don’t do anything stupid. See you up top if that’s what it comes to. ~~Soul mates, remember?~~

Love, Dean

  
 

Living in Twilight ~ The Weepies  
So I stumble home at night  
Like I've stumbled through my life  
With ghosts and visions in my sight  
We are always living in twilight

  
Thing is, he never told Lisa where he was going after. So yeah, a stop on the farewell tour maybe, but there was nothing special about this town, this motel. He’d paid in cash, and he’d used a fake name they'd never used before. So there was no real reason for Sam to be here in his room.

 

Dean let it slide in favor trying to crawl out of his own skin to get away.

 

Later, after Cas zapped him back to Kansas, there was an itch in Dean’s stomach. Like he’d swallowed a feather. Just this little tickling feeling in the darkness, small enough to ignore, but not completely forget.

 

He’d tracked Sam down more than once with nothing to go on but gut feeling, but that was his job. He’d spent all of his life chasing after Sam. There was no reason Sam would have the same skill-set without years spent chasing after Dean.

  
 

Vesper’s Goodbye ~ Nick Jonas and the Administration  
Somewhere I've  
Let all my defenses down  
Never thought to turn around  
And you do not make a sound 

 

 _I don’t have faith in you_.

 

It killed him to say it, killed him like every time he’d died in hell and every time he’d woken up rolled into one.

 

 _I don’t have faith in you_.

 

But it killed Sam just as bad to hear it, and Dean hadn’t expected that. Somehow. Maybe he should have. Maybe it scared him that they’d scraped the barrel this low, that they’d come to _this point_ where Dean had nothing else to lash out with, no more paper thin barriers to hide behind. Sam saw him, all of him, maybe for the first time, and…

 

…and the dumb son of a bitch didn’t run away screaming.

  
 

Something Pretty ~ Patrick Park  
At the most I'm a glare,  
I'm the hopeless son who's hardly there.  
I'm the open sign that's always busted.  
I'm the friend you need, but can't be trusted.

  
 

 

They say when you hit rock bottom there’s nowhere to go but up. Bullshit. In Dean’s experience, there was always further to fall.

 

Seeing Adam again… Dean didn’t have it in him to care for another family member, and maybe the angels knew that but they didn’t understand. Dean tried imagining growing up with a second brother, another Sam, and his brain stalled. At the idea that his love for Sam could be doubled (it couldn’t) or divided (unthinkable).

 

 

Adam was bleeding, and some dim part of Dean cared. Sam was bleeding, and every cell in Dean screamed.

  
 

In The Middle ~ Theory of a Dead Man  
With time standing still, here is where we've always been  
Well there goes the world and we're right in the middle again

 

Dean remembered.

 

He remembered how cold it was outside, his throat raw from screaming at his family, trying to keep them from tearing everything apart. Sam was leaving— _leaving_ —and Dean was shaking so bad the Impala was the only thing holding him up. Dean was going to have to give Sam a ride—there was no question about giving Sam a ride—and he wasn’t sure he was fucking strong enough to drive his brother away.

 

Sam slammed out of the house, screen door squeaking and thumping behind him, duffle clutched in one hand and the other crushing his acceptance letter. He stopped in his tracks instant he saw Dean, eyes going wide like…like he was surprised Dean was still there.

 

 

But Dean was _always_ going to be here, always going to be _right here_ , left in the dust with the pieces of his family. He pushed off his car— _don’t need this shit not good to drive anyway_ —and Sam. Sam stumbled into him, dropped the bag and the crumpled white letter in the dust and wrapped every inch of himself around Dean.

 

 

Dean was hugging back before he realized Sam might take that as acceptance, maybe even permission to leave. He didn’t fucking _care._ Sam was in his arms in this moment, safe and quiet and gangly, almost taller than Dean and that scared him, just for an instant, just a small spark of fear that made him press a kiss to Sam’s temple. Sam probably hadn’t even felt it through that floppy mess of hair.

 

 

But if he had… Dean could get how that would be a little heaven for them, when all their other heavens came with an ache.

  
 

Take the Fall ~ Brendan James  
Drop us off on 55th and keep us reading Vonnegut  
Point out now what we’re careless of

  
“Honestly, the damnedest thing. The world is ending, walls coming down on us, and I look over to you and all I can think about is—this stupid son of a bitch _brought_ me here. I just didn’t want to let you down.”


End file.
